The Whys that Bind
by M1ssUnd3rst4nd1ng
Summary: Derek tells his new betas to bond as a pack and questions arise as to why they are pack to begin with, questions that reveal a lot, to Derek as well as the betas. Season 2 Hale pack bonding, fluff and angst. Derek is not entirely a fail-wolf, just awkward.


**Disclaimer: I do not own _Teen Wolf_, its characters settings, or events; all rights belong to their respective creators.**

**Warning for: dark and twisted thought patterns stemming from child abuse, references to child abuse, fantasies of violence against child abusers, fear stemming from previous abuse. (Basically, Isaac.)**

**Set during/after 2x4 "Abomination," after the training scene (the one where Derek breaks Isaac's arm and tells them why he's training them). It's unclear in that scene whether Boyd has actually turned yet or not (the fact that he's not participating seems to indicate not), so I went with the idea that he hasn't fully; maybe his bite has healed, but the actual abilities are still coming in.**

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**The Whys that Bind**

**aka, the one where Derek tells the betas to bond and they wax philosophical about why everybody is part of the pack to begin with (aka, these four kids are all dysfunctional and probably need help, but they're muddling through)**

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Just a little more, one more step, nice and quiet and easy. Derek paused again, listening. He couldn't hear talking, yet, but that might just mean they weren't talking; he should be in range. Maybe . . .

He was just about to take another step forward when he finally heard a voice.

"Is—" Erica started, only to be abruptly shushed. Derek resisted the urge to growl in frustration at the fact that his betas were such _teenagers_. "I don't hear anything," she tried again after a pause, only getting louder when the shushing repeated. "Do you?" she challenged.

"I can hear you talking," Isaac responded in snide frustration.

Dead silence.

For a few seconds.

Then Erica stage-whispered, "Is he gone yet?" Just to annoy Isaac, he was sure.

Those two . . . Isaac had described Erica as his "only friend, really," but they had such a weird relationship. Like they genuinely enjoyed driving each other up the wall and being outright mean to each other, but at the same time they looked out for each other and sometimes did nice things, usually covered with some kind of insult. And if someone else said anything—even something less insulting than what they said to each other—they were ready to remove vital organs. Derek did not understand it at all.

He was hoping to understand them better, so that he knew better how to train them, which was why he had ordered the three betas to bond and then had pretended to leave before sneaking back close enough to hear them talking but not close enough that they—meaning Isaac, who was cautious, especially around Derek, and always paying attention to his surroundings—could hear Derek's breathing or heartbeat or smell his proximity. If he were a better alpha, he wouldn't need to plot elaborate tricks, but . . .

Erica waited another few seconds—Derek wasn't sure if she actually waited for some kind of sign from Isaac or if she just gave up; her patience for Isaac's quirks could be variable—before speaking up again, sounding amused with herself, "So why'd you say yes to the bite?" There was no verbal answer from either of the boys, so she continued after a few more seconds, cajoling, "Come on, I'll tell you why I said yes."

"To get Derek's mouth on you," Isaac said as if this was well known. Derek could practically _hear_ the eyeroll.

"Is that why you said yes?" Erica asked with sweet innocence. To her credit, she sounded entirely unaffected by the accusation.

"Derek's not my type," Isaac shot back, aiming for casual and incredulous, but there was something defensive under it that made Derek add to his "things Isaac's dad screwed up" list. It was a long list, and growing.

"Who says he's mine?" Erica retorted.

Sometimes Erica and Isaac's verbal sparring could be absolutely vicious, but sometimes it was more of a dance. Derek had expected her to keep the focus on Isaac, keep pushing, go for the kill; he was surprised and proud that she'd not only backed off but given an opening to turn the attention back to her. Isaac's lack of response, at least verbally, was his part of the dance, an indication that he'd noticed and a repaying of the favor.

"It kinda looked like he was your type earlier," Boyd put in, tentative in the face of the verbal storm that was Erica-and-Isaac-unfettered but curious.

Erica snorted and Derek could picture her tossing her hair over her shoulder. "That was tactics," she practically purred. "Men tend to be generally hopeless in the face of a beautiful woman paying them attention."

Boyd didn't say anything but his face must have been doubtful or something because Erica asked mock-offended but clearly grinning, "Vernon Boyd, are you calling me a ho?"

He sputtered denial, but Isaac drawled over top of him, "If the shoe fits."

There was a thunk followed by a clatter as something hit flesh then bounced onto the floor. Chaos erupted as Isaac presumably counter-attacked and Boyd got in the middle, trying to separate them and yelling for them to calm down. Derek did not envy him that position; for all that wolves were in the canine family, those two reminded him of nothing so much as cats, full of aloof amusement and feline grace most of the time but absolutely vicious and dirty in a fight. Either Boyd had more skills than Derek did in splitting up fights—Derek could really only manage it by scaring Isaac half to death and making Erica stop by proxy—or their hearts weren't really in it, because it was surprisingly brief.

"I _liked_ this top," Erica complained, venom dripping from the words.

"I like my _eye_," Isaac spat back. "The heels on those things are sharp enough to do real damage."

Heels. A shoe. Erica had thrown a _shoe_ at Isaac in retaliation.

"You caught it," Erica dismissed.

"Yeah?" Isaac said, voice going high. "What if I hadn't?" It had actually really freaked him out, Derek realized, noting the shakiness underlying the words; he added it to his Isaac list to figure out later.

"Okay," Boyd cut in, firm, before the argument could go any further or Derek could get lost in wondering why Isaac was so bothered by this. "Let's just call it a draw and change the subject." He didn't get an answer. "_Okay?_" he insisted.

No verbal answer, but there were some shuffling noises as they presumably sat back down.

"You don't think your eye could have grown back?" Erica asked, idly, _morbidly_ curious.

Derek braced for another scuffle, but there was nothing except Boyd, exasperated, saying, "_Change the subject._"

Silence.

Briefly.

"So why did you say yes to the bite?"

"Erica!" both boys protested.

"Oh, come on!" she countered. "We probably all have a good idea anyway. What's the big deal?"

"The better question," Boyd cut in, apparently following his own advice, "is why did Derek _ask_?"

"He needs a pack," Isaac answered, as if wondering how Boyd could have possibly missed that.

"But why us?" Boyd pushed.

"Because we're awesome," Erica promptly said.

"I'm serious," Boyd said with a very human growl.

"So am I." Derek had a theory about Erica Reyes and it was this: she had convinced herself, for a very long time, that the epilepsy was the only thing holding her back from being a better Lydia Martin (as perfect as a person could be) and now that Derek had removed that obstacle she was terrified that that wasn't the case and trying desperately to prove that it was, largely by pretending to be perfect. She was wearing "fake it 'til you make it" like an armor; it was her self-confidence (and her self-control) that Derek needed to work with her on.

"I have a theory," Isaac offered. He too had a tendency to pretend to be something he's not—which was maybe the key to understanding Erica-and-Isaac—but this time there was none of that; underneath all that defensive bravado and bite was a genuinely smart and decent kid, so this should be good.

"Let's hear it, brainiac," Erica said, all biting sarcasm and indifference tinged with real curiosity. "Why do you think Derek chose—" She faltered; there was that self-confidence thing again. "—Boyd," she finished.

"Well if I was Derek—"

"You'd wanna get your mouth on him?" Derek was starting to think she was doing this to cover her slip. Huh.

"Shut up," Isaac said mildly. "Just 'cause _you're_ a ho—"

"Watch it, Lahey. I'll throw a shoe at you again."

Derek thought he was maybe starting to understand this a little. This was their version of an apology: pretending it never happened for a while, then making the same joke but with less bite and responding in kind to let each other know they're forgiven, letting the little things slide—all without showing any weakness.

"If I was Derek," Isaac tried again, a little more forcefully, "I'd pick Boyd because he's already big and strong, so with werewolf enhancements he's basically a wall or a piece of heavy equipment or something." That wouldn't be exactly how Derek would word it, but he basically agreed with the premise; the fact that Boyd had been fit and huge as a human was definitely a plus, even if it hadn't necessarily been a reason for choosing him. "He's quiet and in the junior ROTC, so he'll take orders well and not undermine Derek's authority or whatever." That had not been part of Derek's consideration at all, and it was a little worrying that Isaac thought so. "He's calmer and more patient than either of us—" That must have been directed at Erica. "—so he'll balance out the pack well." That had been a (minor) consideration. "And all of us are loners, which means there's no one to take special notice of any changes in, like, schedule or behavior or whatever and question what's going on, no one for us to rush and tell, no one to take us away from the pack, like McCall has."

"Wow," Erica said, sounding taken aback and a little unsure and worried. Derek agreed with the sentiment.

So did Boyd. His "yeah" sounded stunned and a little freaked out.

_Derek_ was a little freaked out. That was a disturbing picture of what Isaac thought Derek's process had been, and—even more disturbing—Isaac was completely matter of fact about the whole thing. Clinical. Pragmatic. There was no hush to his voice like when you tell a ghost story to your friends or share a secret you're afraid of, no tension or worry that Derek could pick up.

He took a step forward, but was frozen in place by Erica's voice, morbidly curious again and never deterred. "What about me? And you?"

Derek settled, wanting to hear this out because Isaac would never say this if he knew Derek was listening and probably never finish if he was interrupted and he needed to know if he was going to correct this misconception.

"Well," Isaac continued, almost breezy, "you're a loner, too, so same thing, no one to tell, no one to question, no one to take up your time. The epilepsy made you strong, mentally, and was basically the only thing stopping you from being strong physically, it gave you a really good reason to say yes and agree to whatever Derek wanted, it means you can handle being put down and get back up." That was not how Derek thought of Erica and her illness at all; he definitely had never meant to manipulate her into anything because of it. "And then, I don't know, I told him that you were really good at reading people, too, which is useful." He had, and Derek had noted it as a positive, but it wasn't make or break. "And like you said, feminine wiles, he might have thought of that." He hadn't, though it had occurred to him that having at least one female 'wolf in the pack might be beneficial in balancing them.

"That's—" Boyd sounded sick and apparently couldn't finish his sentence.

"Wow," Erica repeated. She sounded disillusioned and a little scared. "And—and you?"

"My dad." Isaac's voice sounded like a shrug, as if it was obvious and unimportant, but Derek had a very bad feeling about where this was going. "I'm easy to keep in line, I can take a beating, I'm a loner, had a really good reason to say yes."

"That's messed up," Boyd finally choked out. That was a very good way to put it.

"It's smart," Isaac countered. "Derek needs a pack, and he can't afford not to hit the ground running. He doesn't have time to teach us everything and deal with insubordination and distractions."

Did Isaac really think all of that? Was he really _okay_ with that? He was too far away for Derek to read his heartbeat and breathing, let alone body language, so he couldn't be sure. He needed to be sure.

He also needed to catch his breath because there was a tightness in his chest that was only partially feeling overwhelmed at being responsible for a kid who _thinks like that_, who thinks that about _him_ and stayed anyway, and mostly heartache and worry for a kid who _thinks like that_ and _stays_. Derek's claws bit into his hands and he suddenly realized he'd curled them at the wild, passing thought of how much he'd like Isaac Lahey's father to have lived long enough to answer for everything he'd done to his own son. He'd kind of like him to be alive right now so he could put the fear of God in him instead of going in there and _talking_ to the three teenagers he was alpha to (he really wished he wasn't in this position; his mom or Laura would have been so much better at dealing with these kids).

But there was no time for catching his breath or indulging in murder fantasies or mourning the people who should have been alpha, because Isaac's thoughts were already catching, if Erica's "So we're like a starter pack?" was any indication.

He made no attempt at hiding his footsteps as he stalked forward and Isaac must have caught them immediately because he was only about five steps down the hall when Erica was suddenly serious and alert. "What?"

It was no surprise; Isaac was always, _always_ conscious of his surroundings, more than Derek, even deep in conversation or in the middle of training, all of his senses tuned in as much as he could bear (and getting better every day). It was most likely his father's legacy, as was the way he always shut up when he knew it was Derek coming. Derek was proud of his awareness, but frustrated by the rest of it.

"Say it again," Derek demanded as he entered the room, harder than he intended in his frustration and worry. All three of them were already looking in his direction, tense in previously lounging positions scattered several feet apart, hearts beating a little faster than they should be; Boyd vacated the bottom of the stairs before he was even halfway down, moving too far out of his way to look entirely casual.

Erica and Boyd were a little nervous—at least partially because they hadn't known who was coming nearly as long as Isaac had; maybe not even until he entered, almost definitely not for Boyd—because Isaac's words were having an impact, but not nearly as nervous as they could be because they weren't sure if they believed it yet. Erica knew Isaac had certain sensitivities and blind spots and would likely take Isaac's interpretation of someone else's motives with a grain of salt. Boyd was a natural skeptic and wouldn't believe anything until it was pretty thoroughly proven. Plus, neither of them had Isaac's experience with untrustworthy authority figures.

Isaac, on the other hand. His heart was racing, probably having put together that Derek could hear at least the tail end of their conversation and pre-emptively nervous about the possibility of having been caught talking about Derek and especially of having said something Derek might not want him to say. He was maybe also worried that they hadn't fulfilled Derek's orders of bonding, because he worried about things like that.

All three of them stared at him blank-faced, confused about what he was referring to.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to face Isaac directly, he clarified, "Tell me why you think I gave you the bite?"

His clarification did not make the atmosphere of the room any better.

Isaac, who had been sprawled against the base of the nearest pillar, started slowly pushing himself up and drawing his knees to his chest. "It was just a guess."

Derek had paused near the bottom of the stairs where he could see all of them, but now he stepped closer to Isaac, whose shoulders started coming up and whose hands curled against the dirty cement of the floor and whose heartbeat ratcheted up even further.

"Sorry," Isaac muttered, "I'll keep my thoughts to myself from now on." He was trying very hard to tread the line between respect and unafraid sarcasm; it made Derek's chest tighten further.

"I didn't ask for an apology." It was meant to be reassurance that he wasn't angry, but it didn't work. Isaac's eyes dropped to his knees, his shoulders rose higher, and his hands tucked under his thighs; Erica and Boyd shifted restlessly—Erica to his left and Boyd behind him now—but made no move to come nearer or to get obviously farther away. Derek suppressed a frustrated sound at his own insufficiency to the moment and crouched down in front of Isaac, whose heartbeat was nearly deafening by now, trying again and trying really hard to be gentle. "Why do you think I gave you the bite?"

"Because of my dad." It wasn't mumbled, because Isaac didn't mumble—it was on the list—but it was a near thing.

"More specifically," Derek prompted.

Isaac looked up, searching his face; he did that sometimes, like he was trying to figure out what Derek wanted him to say.

"I can take a beating and get back up, even without the healing, which is useful in a fight or—" He cut himself off, heart skipping frantically, but Derek got the unspoken message—useful if _Derek_, his _alpha_, hurt him and still wanted him to do something. "Useful in a fight," Isaac repeated instead. He sounded like he was reassuring himself that he was useful to Derek and Derek had a flash of Isaac's father bloody under his hands again. "I do what I'm told." There was a nervous edge to that one, like Derek wouldn't believe him and find him _useful_. Or like by saying it he might remind Derek that he hadn't a minute ago. His heartbeat was already going too fast and he was already sweating—there was no way to tell if Isaac believed that a lie or not. "I don't have anyone left to tell and I'm good at keeping secrets anyway," he rushed on, like he was proving himself to Derek. "No one left to notice or question any changes. I've got nothing in my life that interferes with pack business." It sounded like he was trying to point out a way he was superior to his packmates.

Derek's mother, when any of the 'wolves in the pack had tried to make themselves seem better than another or tried to put themselves above another, had been absolutely ruthless in reminding all of them that they were all equal in the pack, that they were brothers and sisters and should be lifting each other up, that they may be different but they were all the same in the important ways. She had been gentle about it and it had made them feel loved and part of something bigger than themselves, but he couldn't bring himself to do that to Isaac when the boy was sitting in front of him talking himself up out of fear that Derek would turn on him, his heartbeat thundering in Derek's ears.

So he ignored it, he let the boy have that, at least for a few minutes until Derek could explain that he didn't need it.

He waited a few seconds to be sure that Isaac was finished before he asked, "You really believe that?"

"I thought you could tell when we were lying?" Erica jumped in. As Derek turned to look at her, he caught a glimpse of Isaac shooting her a wide-eyed look, simultaneous panic and questioning what she was doing; the heartbeats of all three of his betas shot up just a hair.

"Direct lies, yes," Derek explained patiently. He hoped. "Belief is a little tricky." He turned back to Isaac, who had already schooled his expression but was still tense all over and leaking nervous pheromones. "Do you really believe all of that?" he repeated. "And what you said before about Erica and Boyd?"

Isaac's heart stuttered at the implication, body going completely still. Erica muttered, "How long were you listening?" only half to him. Derek ignored both and waited for Isaac's answer, doing his best to project calm and patient and nonthreatening.

"I think it's really smart," Isaac finally said cautiously, heartbeat catching in his chest.

"That's not what I asked."

Isaac ran a nervous hand through his hair, leaving behind a layer of dust and little bits of rocks and things and making it fall at an odd angle; Derek's hand twitched against the urge to fix it and Isaac's eyes instantly latched onto the movement. They waited longer as Isaac apparently thought through his answer. "I don't—I don't know," Isaac finally stammered, frustration flooding his voice. He looked up. "I don't know why you bit us. It was just a guess that made sense." Derek nodded and Isaac relaxed a little, some of the desperation leaking out, heartbeat easing; relief surged through his scent.

Turning and dropping a knee, Derek surveyed the other two, who shifted nervously. "What about you two?" He could feel Isaac's eyes on the side of his face, but ignored it.

Boyd shrugged, heartbeat steady (but that didn't mean anything).

"How should I know?" Erica challenged; Isaac's eyes shifted to her for a second. Her heartbeat stayed the same, too, but again, it meant nothing because she wasn't really answering. "You never tell us anything."

Derek grunted acknowledgement and shifted again so that he was sitting flat on the floor, legs crossed. It reminded him of kindergarten (or Stiles) and was the least threatening position he could think of; he made an effort to relax in the hopes that it would leak out to his pack as well as he thought his answer through. The scent of Isaac's caution still flooded the air, especially sitting as close as he was, but beyond that he caught the faint scent of curiosity from all three of them. "You're wrong," he said directly to Isaac, who tensed all the way back up, heart jumping; the scent of caution and faint nerves that had surrounded him turned acrid with a spike of panic, and Derek thought the expression on his face looked a little too like resignation for comfort. "About some of it, at least. And about the overall . . ." He waved a hand to indicate his meaning. Erica's and Boyd's heartbeats started to slow, their breathing easing with soft sighs, and the scent of nerves from their direction dissipated into pure curiosity; Isaac's heartbeat continued at worrying speeds, and the scent of his fear did not abate. "I'm practical," he allowed to the room at large, eyes shifting to the middle distance and away from Isaac. "I have to be. And I know I can be a bit callous and difficult and . . . distant, but I'm not . . . I'm not cold-hearted. I'm not as clinical as Isaac's guess made me sound. You're not pawns to me—as much as I sometimes need to use you like you are—you're _pack_. You guys don't really understand what that means yet, _not_," he emphasized over Erica's protest, "not as much as you will." He checked heartbeats again; Erica's and Boyd's were almost back to normal, the last of the adrenaline leaving their system, but Isaac's was unchecked as far as he could tell, which matched with the scent still oozing from his pores.

He took a breath, arranging his thoughts. _Just like writing a pape_r, he told himself. _Arrange your points. _

_Don't think about your audience._

"Keeping our existence a secret is incredibly important. I cannot stress that enough. So, yes, the fact that you weren't the highlight of the school gossip or part of any other social group that would notice changes and absences was absolutely a factor. I have a responsibility in giving the bite to make sure that doing so doesn't give away our entire species. But it's not that I don't want any of you to have anything or anyone outside of the pack. It's not that you can never tell anyone. It's just usually best if people learn on _your_ terms, when you're both ready, instead of stumbling onto it. Okay?" He glanced around for nods while he checked heartbeats; Erica and Boyd appeared reassured and had regular heartbeats, Isaac's heartbeat was still fast, but not deafening, probably cycling slowly down from the dizzying speed it had achieved. Isaac's head was cocked to the side, though, and whenever he thought Derek wasn't looking his eyes were locked on Derek's chest—he was listening to Derek's heartbeat as he talked; good, let him listen.

"I did not choose _anyone_ based on their ability or inclination to follow orders." He glanced pointedly around, first at Isaac, who looked thoughtful; then Boyd, who nodded seriously; and finally Erica, who winked and grinned. "If that were a factor, I would not be trying to get Scott McCall to join the pack. That is not a quality he has. And frankly, Isaac—" He looked at the boy in question, whose eyes snapped to his with a frown, heartbeat ticking back up; time to face the issue head on before Isaac drove himself nuts trying to get it right. "—your father didn't give you perfect obedience, he gave you authority issues and a tendency to lie." He turned away from Isaac's reaction, determined not to get distracted from his purpose; he couldn't miss the stuttering of his heart at the words, though, or the way it continued full speed ahead after. "I want you guys to do as you're told, of course I do, but I also want you to think for yourselves. I want you to listen because we're _pack_ and we work _together_. Understand?" He glanced to Erica and Boyd first for their nods of acknowledgement, before finally facing Isaac's narrow-eyed stare and holding it steady. He couldn't find the lie, Derek guessed, but wasn't quite ready to believe it wasn't there. His heartbeat, at least, was on the way to settling, again.

When he'd accomplished as much as he could telepathically, he turned away. "As werewolves, we should trust our instincts even more than humans, but we should also back up our instincts with our brains whenever possible. There are plenty of people who have a good reason to take the bite; I didn't choose any of them. I chose you three based on instinct, and the fact that I thought through some of the practical aspects doesn't change that." He met each of their eyes to be sure they understood before turning to Little Miss Insecurity.

"Erica." She straightened, cocking her head in invitation and acknowledgement. "You are incredibly fierce." She smiled a smug, predatory smile, which dropped a little at his next words. "You fought your own body for most of your life; I admire that strength, and I respect that fight." Wide-eyed, she stared at him with no pretenses, just bare need and the shimmer of tears, her scent a confusion of longing and pleased and proud of herself and grief. "And, yes, it also made me think that you could be really good at this and that you are someone I'd really like to have on my side." She preened obnoxiously for the laughs, even going so far as to huff on her nails and buff them on her jacket. Derek rolled his eyes, but couldn't help a small smile. He had meant it; he was glad to have her here.

"Boyd." Boyd switched his attention from Erica to Derek, expression indicating that he was listening. "You are steady. You found your own way, even if that meant being lonely." Forehead furrowed, like he'd never thought of that as a good thing before. "You are so sure of who you are." Boyd's eyes started to glance to the side, in Erica's direction, but he stopped himself; Derek gave a little wry smile as he acknowledged the truth of that. "I respect that," Derek continued, "and I _also_ know that that will make you good as a werewolf and someone I appreciate as pack." Boyd rocked back on his heels a little, pleased expression on his face, and tipped his chin up in a half nod.

"Isaac." The wariness in his eyes didn't quite bury the spark of hope as he glanced quickly around the room and back to Derek; his heartbeat, almost back to normal, rose again, but this time his scent was more hope and curiosity and anxiety than outright fear and Derek could work with that. "You are one of the strongest people I've ever known." Isaac's face twisted in skepticism and he glanced involuntarily towards the heart Derek had no illusions he'd stopped listening to. Derek ducked his head briefly to catch his eyes again. "That you can even function normally—that you functioned normally the whole time—is a testament to that." Now he just looked and mostly smelled confused. "That you, freshly turned, the night before the full moon, didn't kill your father, is a testament to that." There was grief there, but also something that was maybe understanding. "That you can talk about your past . . . I couldn't do it, I don't think. I respect you for that." He was surprised and pleased, Derek could smell it. "That resilience and self-control are going to do you well as a 'wolf and I'm glad to have you with me." He ducked his head, but Derek thought he caught the edges of a smile; he returned it.

There was a beat of silence, heavy with thoughts.

"What a Hallmark moment," Erica said sarcastically. Boyd laughed—actually laughed; he had a nice laugh—and Erica tossed him a sly smile. Then, casual as anything, as if nothing had happened, "Who wants pizza?"

(Okay, Derek thought when they were finally actually walking out five minutes later—after Erica had fussed over her and Isaac's appearance so that they didn't look like they'd gotten into a fight with a mountain lion or like Isaac "had swept the floor with his head;" after Erica had removed her shirt with a demand for Isaac to fix it, which he'd seemingly agreed to without comment, and replaced her jacket over just her bra, then threatened to throw a shoe at Isaac when he offered her one of his spare shirts in what Derek was fairly sure was meant to be an apology; after Erica had hopped on Boyd's back for a piggy-back ride and Boyd had ignored it in favor of clapping Isaac on the shoulder with one hand while hitching her up higher with the other and subtly and expertly corralling the whole group out the door; after Isaac had paused to check if Derek wanted them to bring him back something, which Boyd had also done already—okay, Derek thought when they were leaving, so he hadn't gone about it in the way his mom or Laura would have, may not have even known how to begin doing that, but he hadn't completely failed as an alpha, either. There was his pack, whole and healthy and happy and comfortable with each other and getting there with him; it wasn't perfect, but it also wasn't a disaster, and it was still early.)

(He may not be a natural at this, but he _could_ learn.)

(He _would_ learn.)

"So," Erica said, faint at the edge of his hearing but still dripping mischief, "why'd you guys say yes to the bite?"

Both boys groaned her name, Isaac loud and obnoxious and Boyd exasperated but amused.

Derek laughed out loud.

* * *

**Side note: I don't know if Isaac on the show is meant to be gay or not (I mean, obviously not entirely, because Alison), but I figure it was something that was a _thing_ with his dad either way and therefore a sensitive issue, so that's how I wrote it.**

**Other side note: this does not in any way change the canon scene where Isaac questions why Derek "did this" to them in season three, because Isaac is mistrustful and still not completely swayed, just willing to roll with it for now.**

**I just really, really wanted all of the new Hale pack to be _okay_, like mentally and emotionally as well as physically, but they're kinda bad at it and mostly leave me banging my head on a wall. So I will make them okay. Ish.**

**As always, comments, critiques, and constructive criticism are more than welcome.**

**Have a fantastic day!**

**M1ssUnd3rst4nd1ng**


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